Saints Row: An Original Saga
by Aaron Ledgers
Summary: Snow White... this title was given to a young albino girl after she was recruited into the Third Street Saints. Even though she experienced tons of amazing things with them, she transformed into a fiercely cold young woman and refused to trust anybody but Johnny Gat. This is the story of how Emily 'Snow' White became the Leader of the Saints and how she melted the ice in her heart.
1. Chapter 1: Frozen

**BOOK ONE: THE SILENT BEAUTY**  
_"__Mirror, mirror on the wall, who is the loneliest one of all?"_  
_RWBY - White's Sonata_

* * *

**Chapter One: Frozen**

My story began with ice… which is a substance so cold that it can kill a man if he becomes encased in it. However, ice can also feel very warm and soothing over an extended period of time, and to me, there are two extremely different types of it: the first is the physical type, and it feels colder than the way my hair and eyelashes look to other people… but the second type is emotional, and this is the type that my life began with. It was the only thing I had to latch onto, to soothe my soul.

You see… I was born and raised in the scorching heat of Hell on Earth: Stillwater, Massachusetts.

My name is Emily White, and I am a fourteen-year-old albino girl who grew up in a city that had never once been clean. In my world, common morals don't apply to how things are done, nor can the law help people: if you get caught alone without a weapon, you'll either get raped by a gang or shot to death depending on your gender. Before the Ice settled deep around my heart and formed a frigid barrier between myself and humanity, I had an identical twin sister: the two of us had the same face, the same build, the same habits, and pretty much the same everything aside from the disease that claimed me when I was still in the womb: albinism.

Her hair had always been a gorgeous brown, and her eyes had been a beautiful shade of honey-amber.

Me, on the other hand... well, my hair and lashes are whiter than snow, and my eyes are a disturbing shade of pink.

Before the day my twin was raped and murdered in front of me, I was very weak: I couldn't stand violence, and I even felt compelled to cry every now and then whenever gunshots would erupt outside of our dingy one-bedroom apartment. Whenever I'd actually start crying, however, she would always lie down next to me on our tiny mattress and cover my ears to block out the screams coming from outside. She had been so strong… but because I had always leaned on her for protection, she was killed… and I'll never the last thing she said to me as she lay dying in my arms.

"Be strong, Emily," Amelia had whispered. "Even if you have to kill to survive, do it: live on no matter what it takes."

"K-kill?" I'd whispered back, shaking my head in horror. "I could never kill anyone!"

However, the moment those words left my lips, my sister had smiled at me and her muscles had relaxed in my grasp. When her eyes glazed over, I'd felt the touch of Ice burning my heart for the very first time in my entire life. It had seeped into me with an ache so terrible that I'd instantly wanted to cry my eyes out and scream… but I had been rendered completely incapable of doing so because of how powerful the pain was. Even now, to this very day… whenever the Ice in my heart begins to thaw, that pain threatens to rip my soul in two. That's why I don't feel anything now: after my sister died, I'd vowed to never let myself feel anything, ever again.

And because of her last wish, I was going to survive no matter what it took, even if it meant ending other lives.

I was accepted into a private academy for girls last year, but when several of my new and overly pretty classmates tried to jump me during lunch, I beat them half to death and ripped their hair out because it made me feel better. Nobody in school ever messed with me once I'd made it clear that I wasn't afraid to kill them, and because of that I got very bored. I'd ended up immersing myself in my studies since reading and doing schoolwork were the only distractions I had to keep the Ice around my heart from thawing. That's what consumed my time before the night my life changed forever.

And that evening is where my story truly began… because it was the night I met Julius and Troy for the very first time.

I had been walking home from school with my mind fixed on getting to my old apartment building without being shot, so I was completely on edge and extremely alert: even though I was only four feet and seven inches tall, I had personally vowed a long time ago never to let anybody use my own height against me. My shoulder-length white hair was hanging loosely around my cheeks like wisps of silver satin, but my glasses had always prevented people from actually seeing my eyes.

"Watches!" a sleazy black man shouted, thrusting a box of wares into my face. "Cost six hundred dolla's in th' sto'!"

I immediately sent a furious glare at him and continued walking, ignoring the vulgarity that assaulted me from behind as I sauntered away.

All around me were hookers, drug-addicts, and pimps of every shape and variety since I lived in the slums: all of them cast glances my way since I was wearing my schoolgirl uniform, but they knew better to approach since they were all neighbors who lived nearby. Everyone in this area knew me by appearance because I was the only attractive albino within a thousand-mile radius. If you hadn't guessed, I'm pretty damn hot for a girl with albinism, and I'm sure as hell aware of it: anybody who thinks otherwise can go fuck themselves with a plunger-handle for all I care. I don't particularly like my appearance, and I don't think it's something to be proud of, so I don't flaunt it around: beauty can lead to some very unpleasant situations in a city as corrupt as Stillwater, so I've never worn make-up or let my hair grow out.

However, there are people who believe they need to take care of me... such as the woman who was currently looking for me.

"Little Lady, you are _late!_ What on earth took you so long to get here?" Mrs. McCarthy demanded, stomping down the street and planting her hands on her hips; I merely looked up at her through my glasses and stared her down with a fierce expression. She was nothing but an old, fat black woman who lived two doors down from me: she was a lonely soul, and she'd somehow gotten it into her head that I needed someone to take care of me... that I needed a good role model.

I never let it show, but I was grateful to her because she was always looking after me: she cooked meals, visited, and checked up all the time.

However, when she gave me the stink-eye, I scowled and tried to walk around her.

The woman sighed like she always did when I ignored her… but that's when it happened again, and the ice around my heart froze my body completely solid. I turned my head and halted when I heard the angry voices, arms tightening around the bag and books I was holding even as my vision sharpened. Two rival gangs where insulting each other, and several people were already bolting for their homes. Mrs. McCarthy gripped my wrist when they started beating each other.

I remained frozen, watching the two gangs fight each other with wide eyes as the woman huddled down.

"Emily, get down!" Mrs. McCarthy squeaked, tugging on my arm when a topless red sport's car screeched around a corner and skidded to a halt in front of us; my violet eyes latched into the Hispanic men in the vehicle… then they flitted to the huge guns in their hands and I felt my stomach flip, because only a moment later the fighting gangs drew their weapons as well. Then pandemonium erupted with the sound of rapid gunfire: Mrs. McCarthy's hand jerked and her nails dug into my flesh before her grip went slack and she completely let go of my arm; I glanced down to see rivers of blood spilling from three gaping holes in her forehead.

I glanced down at my arm to see that my sleeve had been torn a little: I had been grazed by a bullet, and because of that my instincts finally kicked in.

I immediately dropped to the ground with my arms over my head; however, when more gunfire erupted and the sports' car crashed only ten feet away from me, it exploded and I was blown clean off the ground. My school items were ripped clean out of my grasp as I rolled three feet away from where I'd previously dropped down, and my ears instantly started ringing. When the pain hit me, I curled into a ball to keep myself from vomiting.

I vaguely heard more gunfire, but when I opened my eyes, I saw a blurred silhouette of a man wearing yellow and white. He was pointing something dark and blobby at me… and it was only then that I realized I couldn't see because I'd lost my glasses in the earlier explosion. However, I knew what he held in his hands, and I immediately tried to crawl away from him on my back. My shoes scraped against the concrete as I tried to push myself backwards, and I heard him sneer down at me.

"Wrong place, wrong time, hoe," he drawled, walking up and pressing the pistol shaft against my forehead. I immediately closed my eyes and tensed, waiting for the world to go dark and send me spiraling down into the land of perpetual fire… but the gunshot I heard didn't end my life. I felt myself scowl when I realized that I'd flinched a little bit at the first initial noise; then I opened my eyes to see two blurred silhouettes in front of me.

"You okay, playa?" a male voice asked; when I felt a large hand touch my hair, I could sense that whoever had saved my life was pretty confused by my strikingly odd appearance. However, I fervently kept my mouth shut even when he gripped my skinny arm and pulled me up; my right leg instantly buckled as a sharp pain shot through it, but he caught me before I fell. The next thing I knew, I was being dragged away from the burning car.

Good thing, too, because it exploded not even ten seconds after he started pulling me away from it. I stumbled a bit as my savior hauled me over towards the hardware store's brick wall, but when he set me down and touched my ankle, I kept my face blank and refused to speak. I waited until he was finished, but I twitched a bit when he put my glasses on my face. I was immediately met with the clear sight of two men standing before me: a handsome black man with reddish brown eyes wearing purple gang flags, and a young white man with the same colors and a cigarette poking out of his mouth. The white man was also holding a gun in his hand. I blinked a few times in shock since they were obviously part of a new gang… but for some reason, they were acting more like saints than scum.

Ironically enough, I learned later that I had been spot on.

The black man gripped my arm and inspected the scratch.

"That don't look so bad… you should be fine," he stated, looking straight into my eyes before jerking his thumb at the man standing behind him. "I'm Julius and that's Troy: you can thank him later. The Row ain't safe no more, kid… we got street gangs fightin' over shit that ain't theirs, and if you in the way, they don't care if you're representin' or not."

"Julius," Troy snapped, waving the gun around. "This is no time to start recruitin' little girls!"

"We need all the help we can get, son," Julius retorted, swiveling around to look at him. "Age and gender don't matter."

"No, what we need is to get our asses outta here!" the white man retorted, looking around as the sound of police sirens began to split the air somewhere far in the distance. "The cops are gonna show up any second, so we gotta get going! Now!"

"Give me a second," the black man snorted, turning to look back at me. "Look, kid, the Row's got a problem… so come to the old church tomorrow morning if you wanna be a part of the solution. Like I said, we'll need all the help we can get."

I kept my mouth shut when the two of them ran off and disappeared around a corner, but I slowly crawled back to my feet after they were gone: after dusting myself off, I stumbled over to where my things had fallen and grabbed them off the pavement… but the moment I turned and saw Mrs. McCarthy lying in a puddle of her own blood, my heart skipped a sickening beat and I bolted towards my apartment. I literally flew up the stairs and ran into my tiny home before slamming the door shut and locking it with a loud click; then I sank down to the floor and curled up into a ball. The ice was in my heart… and it was trying to soothe me… but reality was too painful.

I had gotten another person killed… but this time, I wanted revenge.

And I was going to get it.

Good girls go bad, but when they're gone, they're gone for good.

And I was too damn tired of trying to be nice.


	2. Chapter 2: Canonizing and Hoe-Snatching

**Chapter Two: Canonizing and Hoe-Snatching**

When I woke up the next morning, I popped in a set of contacts and donned a simple white dress before I hurried out of my apartment and jogged towards the old church: I hadn't even bothered to put on my shoes, because I actually run a lot faster without them. The only other clothes I owned besides the dress I had on were all school-related, so there was no way I could put them on: after all, it was a school day and I was skipping.

When I made it to the church-yard, I stopped and looked up at the bells, waiting for them to ring.

The moment the clock struck ten, the gongs began to echo across the Row… and I made my way around to the back where the graveyard was located. I made it there just in time to see several people wearing purple go wild in front of the church steps and start cheering: when I saw the men who had saved me the night before, I made my way through the crowd in order to talk.

"Every mother fucker here knows what we need to do!" Julius rapped out loudly, catching my attention; wisps of my silver hair slid across my cheeks in the breeze, brushing against my lashes as I stared at him with an unfeeling expression. "Those bitches be ridin' around here thinkin' they own these streets. I don't care what flags they flying: Rollers, Carnellies, Vice Kings—nobody's gonna make this nigga feel scared to walk the Row! We're about to lock this shit down!

"Fuck yeah!" a tattooed boy wearing sunglasses yowled; when he turned around and grinned at someone, I noticed that he looked to be only a bit older than I was… maybe sixteen or seventeen. Still, he had jet black hair that had been dyed blonde, tattoos all around his neck, and he had several piercings on his face. When he saw me standing in the crowd—not that I was hard to miss, considering I was the only person not wearing purple—he did a double take. "Who the fuck is this bitch?"

I kept my face blank and kept my eyes trained on Julius when several people surrounded me.

I wasn't afraid of them.

"Troy and I found her," Julius calmly explained, looking down at me. "We're gonna see if she'll ride with us."

"Julius, if she wants to run with the saints, she gotta be canonized," the boy wearing glasses retorted, looking at my height and young facial features with something close to distaste. "She don't even look old enough to drive, let alone cap a nigga in his ass."

_I could cap you and not give a damn,_ I thought silently, turning a little in order to shoot him a glare.

"He's right, Julius," Troy stated, shrugging before he looked at me. "Everyone had to do it."

"You ready for this, playa?" Julius asked, looking straight at me; by way of answer, I shifted my stance and positioned myself the way a martial artist would, colorless eyes flashing around and taking note of my opponents. Like the snap of a whip, the gang members lunged at me: one man grabbed my hair and jerked my head down before another kicked me in the stomach; then a third shoved me to the ground and stomped on my chest with a condescending laugh. Several of the Saints started laughing when I slowly crawled to all fours and stood up again, snowy bangs shielding my eyes.

Then I looked up… and smiled before I waggled a finger at them.

Every single person stared at me with an open mouth before bursting into laughter. A black girl tried to charge at me, but the moment she threw a punch, that's when things took off: I gripped the girl's wrist and used the momentum of her sprint to spin her around in a rapid circle; then, when the girl was going too fast to stop herself, I let go of her arm and flipped around in the opposite direction, nailing her in the face with a flexible corkscrew-kick that planted her on the ground.

Everyone stopped laughing when I landed with my silver hair and white dress swirling around like a cloud.

"Da fuck?" the guy wearing the glasses snorted, dark eyebrows lifting a bit. "Yo, that looked like some sort of ninja shit!"

I merely gestured with a finger for him to come at me.

When a burly black boy attempted to charge at me and started throwing wild punches, I took a deep breath and deflected several hits using my wrists and dodged the rest; then, when he finally slipped up, I gripped the boy's right arm and brought my leg up, kicking him in the right side of the face before bringing my foot back and nailing him on the left cheek: the black boy flipped off to the side like a sack of potatoes when the return kick smacked his jaw, and he was knocked unconscious from smacking his head on the pavement. Another man tried to attack me, but he was the stupidest one so far.

Simply because he tried to kick me in the face.

When I saw him drawing his leg back, I slid to the side and gripped his ankle just after it sailed past my ear; then I turned around and used all of my strength to flip him over my shoulders. The move was designed so it would slam an opponent's face clean into the ground, but since I was using his momentum to boost my strength, he hit the dirt too hard for comfort. After bending down and checking to make sure he had a pulse, I slid away from him like living water and faced the rest of my opponents, bouncing eagerly from foot to foot as I took on my favorite fighting stance. The surrounding crowd cheered as another gang member rolled his shoulders and charged at me with his head down, just like a bull.

I stared at him in disbelief for a moment, then rolled my eyes before going back to a normal stance and looking at my nails with disinterest. It was almost funny, honestly: the technique may have worked on the football field, but in combat it was sheer stupidity. When he was only a few feet away, I looked up and propelled myself forward into a handstand, wrapping my ankles securely around the back of his neck and using his own momentum to flip him over my body. When he landed hard on his back, I used my arms to spring myself backwards and landed with my legs spread apart over his body.

I immediately dropped down to my knees and started hitting him in the face with both fists.

My newest assailant, however, was way bigger than me and four times as strong… so he easily got his legs under my stomach and kicked outward, sending me flying backwards. The Saints watched in stunned silence as I turned the fall into a backhand spring and came out of the potentially-painful landing unharmed. I instantly crouched like a cat waiting to pounce and focused my eyes on my opponent, watching as he stood up with the wariness of a tiger.

Nobody was cheering now: their eyes were riveted to the scene in front of them. Strands of loose white hair were blown back by the chilly breeze as I watched the big guy charge at me yet again. When he was less than two feet away, I leapt up and extended my leg towards the sky, performing a vertical split-kick: my toes connected with the bottom of his jaw and sent him sprawling back to the ground. However, I wrapped my arms around my leg the very moment after I kicked him and held it parallel with my body: I tried to keep my dress pinned down, as well, so nobody could catch a glimpse of my underwear by accident.

I heard awed murmurs as I let gravity take control, falling forward until my heel connected with my attacker's gut.

His eyes bulged as I rolled away, but by the time I'd crouched again, he'd passed out.

"Damn, you look like fun… let's see if you can take me," a male voice purred from behind my head, making my heart leap; when I whirled around, the boy with the glasses grabbed my right wrist and slid his free arm behind my back, looking into my eyes with cold blue irises. I froze like a statue, all of my training and fighting techniques flooding out of my mind. "But first, though… I think I'm gonna have a little fun, so I hope you're ready for this… because I sure as hell am."

And with that, he lifted me off the ground and kissed me.

I froze like a statue and my eyes widened in horror: my mind instantly shut down and I clamped up so badly that I couldn't even pull away from him. I had never been kissed by anyone before, yet this strange young man had just stolen my first one… and somehow, it just managed to crush me beyond repair, since this was something I'd always dreamed about sharing with my prince charming someday. Even though I wasn't innocent, I still had dreams that I had been holding close.

And he'd just destroyed the most precious one, out of every single dream I'd had left.

Tears of rage filled my eyes as he kissed my frozen mouth, and when he pulled away, he smiled when I merely stared off into space as my broken dream slid down my cheeks like diamonds: after my mind clicked back on, however, I jerked away from him and frantically wiped at my mouth before letting out a shriek and lunging at him with my fists flailing. I honestly wanted to kill him… I wanted to make him feel never-ending pain for stealing my last happiness from me.

He dodged around me as I frantically fought to hit him: I was so distraught that I didn't even think of my training. After a few triumphant moments of laughing at mt pathetic attacks, the boy slipped under my flailing arms and punched me right in the stomach: my eyes flew open wide and I doubled over as the wind was knocked out of me, but only a second later I felt a sharp rap on the back of my neck and tumbled to the ground in a heap, shivering as my entire body went numb.

Still, I struggled to get back up and managed to get back on my feet.

_What kind of twisted freak is he?!_ I silently hissed to myself, rubbing my aching stomach after I stood up again; my eyes were colder than the ice around my heart when I looked at him, and even though my face was completely devoid of expression, everyone could tell that a change had taken place in my attitude: when the boy walked back up to me and looked straight into mt eyes, he observed my stoic expression with a twinkle that lit up the eyes behind those dark lenses.

"You seem like an entirely different person now," he noted, cocking his head; when I remained silent and stared at him, he hopped from foot to foot and started dancing around. However, the moment he leapt and tried to kick me in the face, I merely bent over backwards and threw my head back, spreading my arms and dodging his foot with fluid ease. When he brought his other foot up and tried to kick me, I twirled like a dancer—arching my back in such a flexible manner that I managed to dodge him by nothing more than a hair. I used the flow of my moving body to perform a roundhouse kick, but he gripped my leg and flipped me off my feet.

I landed on my back with a muffled squeak and blinked up at the sky for several moments; then he tried to stomp on me, and I somersaulted backwards. I rolled my body into another handstand before springing myself back on my feet. I barely dodged when he charged me and sent a punch flying at my face. The rings on his fingers sliced my nose a bit, but his eyes widened when my expression didn't change. He sent his other arm flying at my face, but I caught it and performed a particularly painful disarming move on his wrist before twisting it; he flinched with a startled grunt and flipped over his arm, using the action to twist mine in the process. I squeaked when he gripped my slender limb with both hands, gritting my teeth in pain before flipping onto my right hand and scissor-kicking both of his wrists. The attack forced the boy to let me go completely, and during the time it took for him to stumble backwards, I flipped back onto my feet.

Then I performed a corkscrew flip-kick and my bare foot connected with his jaw.

However, I felt the blood drain from my face when he merely rubbed the spot and grinned.

_That attack should have planted him on the ground,_ I whispered silently, getting a case of the prickles, _so why is he still standing...?_

"You're really good at fighting," the boy grumbled, grinning with flashing eyes. "That move is almost impossible for a little girl to pull off unless you have a lot of strength or flexibility; judging by your size, I'd say it's the latter... am I right?"

I merely scowled and flipped him off... mostly because he was correct.

"So, you're the strong and silent type, eh?" the boy sniggered, rolling his shoulders before cracking his neck. "Damn, that was a good fight."

"Hey, Snow White!" Troy called, abruptly catching my attention; I blinked in surprise when he walked up to me and held out his hand, but when he stared at me with an expectant expression, I hesitantly shook it before taking a few steps away from him. "Let's just say that you earned your colors today."

"That was some impressive shit!" a black man who smelled like beer and stale tobacco exclaimed, dropping a large hand on my shoulder. "The only other Saint who kicked ass like that is Johnny!"

"Shit, took me half the time," the boy who'd stolen my first kiss snorted, smirking at him. "I'm a bit stronger than Little Snow is."

"Welcome to the third street saints," Julius chuckled, walking forward and mussing up my hair; I shot a glare at him and leered at Johnny with a murderous expression before I focused my attention on the man who'd saved my life. "Now, let's get down to business. If we're serious about taking back the Row, we gotta let those mother fuckers know what time it is. When you break it down, it's all about respect: if you get enough of it, they're gonna back off… and we're gonna move right on in."

_What did I just get myself into?_ I wondered silently, glancing around at all the gang members.

"We got some friends in town that could use some help," Julius continued. "Give 'em a hand… of course, you can drop any mother fucker who's walkin' around and carrying the wrong flag: so long as word gets out that the Saints are on the Row, I don't give a damn how you do it, you feel me? Now go ahead and partner up."

Julius looked right at Johnny and nodded at me before he started walking away.

I stared at everyone as they began to disband, but when Johnny tapped me on the shoulder, I instantly hopped away from him and put my fists up with hostile eyes: he instantly lifted his hands in a hold-it manner before smirking at me. He took in my appearance and shrugged before glancing at the departing gang members; then he pulled a gun from his jacket and handed it to me, complete with several bullets. I stared at the weapon blankly and looked up at him in total disbelief.

"You fight like a champ," he stated, giving me a salute. "Still can't believe I got my ass kicked by a little girl wearing a dress."

When I rolled my eyes and flipped him off yet again, he laughed and handed me a holster; I shrugged and lifted the skirt of my dress up so I could fasten it onto my left thigh. Once the strap had been set in place, Johnny motioned for me to follow him over to a violet van and swaggered away. I remained on my guard even when I had strapped myself into the passenger's seat: I didn't trust any of the idiots I had joined, nor did I want to have anything to do with them.

All I wanted was to get even with the gangs who had killed everyone I was close with.

"All right, Snowflake, here's the deal," Johnny stated after he'd put the vehicle in motion. "You and I are gonna drive around and see if we can make a name for the Saints. I got contact info from Julius, so be prepared to back me up if shit gets heavy."

_Whatever you say,_ I muttered silently, giving a little nod when he glanced at me from out of the corner of his eye.

"You don't talk much, do you?" Johnny snorted, rolling his eyes when I glared and shook my head. "Ah, whatever."

The two of us fell silent for a few minutes: he was driving the car, I was looking out the window and wondering how the hell I'd ended up in such a strange situation… because, trust me, there was no denying that I'd been put through a strange set of events. The only thing that didn't make sense was Johnny's behavior: I glanced at him in an inconspicuous manner and ogled him, trying to figure out what had been going through his mind when he'd randomly decided to kiss me. I felt my anger spike at the thought and shook my head a little before turning to glare out the window once again: I didn't even wanna know.

I jumped when his cell phone unexpectedly rang and glanced at him in surprise.

"Yello?" Johnny grunted into the receiver; I watched as he listened to the person on the other line, searching for a change in his disinterested expression. "Oh, really now? Then why the hell didn't you call me ten minutes earlier, you fuck stain?"

I quirked an eyebrow at the foul language and looked out the window once again.

"All right, whatever," Johnny sighed, snapping his phone shut. "Well, looks to me like we're headin' to the fuck-club, Snow."

_The **what** club…?_ I wondered, blinking several times before I glanced at him with raised eyebrows. I got my answer to my question when Johnny wheeled around a few corners and pulled up next to a hooker and strip club... in other words, we had pretty much just parked in front of a modern brothel. I stared at the sign with a wary expression before I glanced at Johnny, who was smirking at me; he motioned with his head for me to follow him again, then got out of the van and headed for the entrance. For a moment, I actually hesitated since I didn't like where this was going, but then I reasoned that I could fuck him up if I had to and got out as well.

After all, I had left a huge bruise on his cheek from our earlier fight.

I followed Johnny inside the building with my hands held limply at my sides; after a moment, I realized I wouldn't be able to reach the gun he'd given me so I knelt down and ripped a huge slit in my dress, tearing the cloth in a fine line until I hit an area just above the holster. Johnny watched with a cocked eyebrow, but he nodded in approval and continued into the heavily decorated lobby. The two of us were just about to start looking around when an angry woman's voice split the silence of the air.

"Listen, Mother Fucker, if you come by here one more time," a beautiful black girl snapped, forcing a Hispanic man wearing a suit and tie to step back, "I will personally feed you all three inches of your tiny ass cock! You hear me? If you say another word inside this building I'll rip you a new ass, so get the fuck out!"

And with that, the woman shoved the Latin man backwards and flipped him off when he called her a _bitch_ in Spanish. I merely stared at the scene with emotionless eyes, but Johnny scratched his chin and looked at the woman with an interested expression. Then the woman noticed the two of us, and she immediately started making her way over. Johnny smirked and tilted his head back before folding his arms; I frowned and glanced off to the side since I didn't like him.

"I don't know what'cha want, but whatever it is, I ain't got it," the black woman snapped at Johnny; then she turned and glanced at me before she did a double take and her brows lifted in surprise; she immediately looked me up and down with a calculating expression, then nodded in sheer amazement. "Damn, girl... you got a really cute face and a hot body for an albino bitch... especially since you ain't seem to got no fashion-sense and ya ain't wearin' any makeup. You got raw material."

"True dat, but she ain't for sale," Johnny instantly scoffed, cracking up with a fit of laughter. "We came here because we heard you're havin' trouble, uh... Monique?"

"Look around, Gat," Monique drawled, spreading her arms around with an irritated expression. "I think you'll notice a distinct lack of pussy! Some fuckin' pimps from out of town are tryin' to put me out of business! They took most of my stable, and _now_ they're asking me to start prostituting for them! Can you believe that shit?!"

"Actually, I can," the boy snorted, eying her supple figure up and down. "That's beside the point, though."

"Until you bring my girls back," Monique sighed, waving her hand, "I can't help you."

"Well, Snowflake," Johnny sniggered, looking at me with an evil expression, "looks like we're going Hoe-huntin."

_Oh, joy,_ I silently cheered, giving a sarcastic roll of my eyes when he gripped my arm and pulled me back towards the van. Once we were inside, he became a speed demon and broke the sound barrier... well, not really, but that's what it felt like to me. It honestly felt like it took only two minutes, but in reality I spent almost seven hours watching Johnny beat the hell out of men wearing outrageously flashy clothes and luring the hookers into the van with us. By the time we brought them all back to Monique and everything calmed down, it was almost eleven at night and I was beyond exhausted. However, when Johnny asked me where I lived, I ignored him.

And because of that, he snapped.

"Why don't you just say somethin', Snowflake?" he demanded, halting the van and leering at me with an irritated expression. "It's grindin' on my nerves, yo."

I merely looked at him with narrowed eyes and flipped him off before opening the car door and hopping out of it; then I began to walk towards my apartment, ignoring him when he put the van in gear and slowly followed me home. I turned around and folded my arms when I made it back to my doorstep—after walking nearly eleven miles on foot, I should add—before sticking my tongue out and walking inside. Once I was upstairs and in my apartment, I walked over to the window and looked out.**  
**

Johnny was still there.

_Yay for assholes, _I thought silently to myself, hopping in the shower and cleaning myself off; when the water started getting cold, I looked out the window again... but to my dismay, he had parked across the street and was apparently lying on top of the vehicle with his arms under his head. I shivered when he looked up at my window and waved with a creepy expression, and I instantly shut the blinds. Unfortunately, he stayed there all night long... as though he were keeping watch.

Well, it's either that... or he was simply stalking me.


	3. Chapter 3: Ebony and Ivory Schoolgirls

**Chapter Three: Ebony and Ivory Schoolgirls**

_I was frozen solid: still, utterly still… unable to move, unable to do more than slowly move my eyes. I shifted my slow-motion gaze from nothing, to nothing, to nothing more. I was buried in cotton, cloud, whiteness all around me. It didn't touch me. Nothing touched me. I was floating in a void empty of everything, completely naked and exposed as my long silver hair billowed around me. I felt like a butterfly caught in a spiderweb._

_Then, with a flash of light, I was suddenly in the middle of a familiar living room._

_"I knew you'd come back, Emily," a familiar voice cackled, making the girl jump. "After all, you have nowhere else to go but home sweet home."_

_"Who's there?!" I squeaked, looking around with a palpitating heart and gasping aloud when the television turned on._

_"Now that's a shame," the voice sighed in mock sorrow, making my eyes widen as a hulking silhouette moved into the light. "You can't even remember who your own father is? I thought you loved me, Emmy... but I guess even love can't last forever if it's completely ignored."_

_"Daddy?" I whispered, throat locking up in horror. "But... b-b-but you're dead! Why can't you just leave me alone so I can suffer in peace?"_

_"Because you didn't deserve to suffer in the first place, you stupid mirage," the man spat, slapping me in the face; I landed hard on my backside and clutched my cheek with stinging eyes, but I grit my teeth and finally lost my temper._

_"I didn't deserve to suffer?! I didn't DESERVE to suffer?!" I shrieked, getting to my feet and clutching the man's shirt. "All my life you and mom completely ignored me and gave Amelia everything she wanted! You doted on her and left me alone in the shadows, as though I wasn't good enough to be your daughter! As though I never existed! Just because Amelia was perfect, and amazing, and beautiful, and better at everything than I was... you left me all alone and acted like I wasn't there! Sometimes I wondered whether I was even real!"_

_"So what?" the man sneered, lifting the remote in his hands and pointing it at the television by the wall; a movie began to play soon afterwards, depicting two infants who were sitting in a playroom. Both of them looked identical aside from their skin color, hair color, and eye-color: the brown-haired baby was being fondled over and tickled by a happy-looking man and woman, while the white-haired baby merely watched with her thumb in her mouth. She watched not her parents, but her twin sister... and every time the brunette laughed, her violet eyes looked happy._

_Soon after, there was another snippet of the twins at the age of six: the brunette was sitting at the birthday table with a multitude of smiling faces sitting around her, but the albino was standing in the corner with her hands folded neatly and a happy grin on her face. Nobody even looked at her when the brunette blew out the candles, and when they handed her an armful of presents she shot a look at the white-haired twin._

_Their mother quickly tried to divert her attention away from the white-haired girl, but it didn't work._

_"Why didn't Emmy get any presents, Mommy?" the little girl asked, looking confused._

_"Don't worry, Amy, she doesn't need them," the woman giggled, putting a slice of cake on her plate. "Mirrors don't play with toys."_

_The festive party continued, but nobody even noticed when a sad little girl left the room. I watched with a sick feeling in my throat as several years' worth of painful memories went by on that video screen: throughout my life, the people who had mattered the most had ignored me aside from Amelia, and she was dead just like the rest of them. I wanted to disappear... wanted to vanish like everyone I had known in the past._

_"Do you understand, now, little Mirage?" my father sneered, clicking the pause button on the memory of my sister's death. "I meant what I said to you that day: your life was an accident, and its because of you that our family couldn't be the way it should have been. We never wanted twins, we wanted to have one daughter and one daughter only: you were nothing but an extra mouth to feed... a nuisance."_

_"That's a lie!" I shrieked, breaking down into tears. "That's a lie!"_

_"You're nothing but a mirror image of your sister, Little Emmy," my father snickered, whispering into her ear._

_"SHUT UP!" I screeched, hauling back and slapping him in the face with all of my strength. "AMELIA WAS ALWAYS THERE FOR ME! SHE'S MY SISTER, NOT MY MIRROR, AND I'M NOT A FUCKING REFLECTION OF HER! WE MAY HAVE THE SAME GOD DAMN FACE, AND I MAY ONLY BE HALF OF WHAT SHE IS, BUT EITHER WAY I'M STILL ME! I'M EMILY ROSE, NOT AMELIA VIOLET'S SHADOW!"_

_"Bitch..." my father hissed, standing up to his full height. "I'm gonna break you like the fucking mirror you are."_

_With that, he tackled me and pinned me to the ground: I let out a shriek and fought back, clawing at his face and beating at his arms, but when he snarled and wrapped his hands around my throat I tried to bite him and failed._

_"Let go of me!" I angrily squeaked out, face contorting in agony as my windpipe was blocked; he only squeezed tighter and sneered when I writhed beneath him. When he began choking the life out of me, I tilted my head and arched my back in pain, eyes squeezing shut even as they began streaming tears. My father laughed as my struggles became weaker and weaker... but then a gunshot... and Amelia... in the doorway—_

"AMY!" I screeched, bolting upright and flailing around; I heaved for air, eyes flashing around as I tried to make sense of my surroundings. After a moment, I realized that I had been dreaming again and slumped back over on my bed, still breathing hard. My throat tightened as the ice around my heart clenched, squeezing all warmth out of me: that had been more than just a simple nightmare... it was a memory of the day that my sister had killed our own drunken father to save me.

I slowly rolled over on my side and looked at my clock: five-thirty in the morning.

I sighed when I realized that, within an hour or less, it would be time for me to go to school again: regardless of what I was going to be doing with the Saints, I was going to keep my grade average up there since I was currently at the top of my class. I never did anything but read or study in school, and since socializing with my classmates was strictly out of the question, I had gotten the best average in the entire school and set several academic records. After a moment of thought, I got up and decided to take a shower and make myself some breakfast. Once I was clean and had donned my school uniform, I grabbed an apron off of the rack in the kitchen and tied it around my front; then I went to the closet and pulled the stool out before carrying it over to the cabinets and standing on it. Even though I was fourteen-years-old, I hadn't grown very much over the last five years: I was a mere total of four feet and seven inches tall, which I've stated once before.

Amelia, on the other hand, had been an enviable five feet and three inches... and she'd purposely called me things like 'Shorty' and 'Squirt' to make fun of me.

With deft movements, I pulled down a pot and some noodles before taking the butter out of the fridge, along with a few fresh vegetables, the salt container, and six herbal ingredients that would make the food delicious. After filling the pot with water and setting it on the stove, I waited for it to boil before I deftly began to make myself some breakfast. Since I really didn't care what I was eating—food was food, after all—making meals like this was common for me in the mornings.

After about ten minutes of cooking, I added the rest of the ingredients and stirred them; then I admired my work.

_Wow, it looks delicious,_ I murmured silently, getting down a plate and looking around for a fork; however, as I was doing so, I spotted Mrs. Maybelle watching me from the front entrance with a small smile on her face... and she was my cranky landlord. I immediately stopped walking around and stared at her in surprise: as far as I was aware, the money I'd earned from my part-time job had paid off my rent for this month, so there was no reason for her to be visiting me.

"What are you doing up this early?" the old woman sighed, walking forward and leaning against the kitchen counter. "It's not even light out."

"I have school in an hour," I whispered softly, averting my eyes and looking at the ground as I spoke. "So, when I woke up, I figured it'd be smart to stay up."

"Well, is there room for two?" the woman asked, cocking an amused eyebrow. "I'd like to try some of your food, if that's okay."

"Of course," I murmured, nodding the affirmative; regardless of the image I put out, everyone in my apartment complex had known me since I was a little girl due to the fact that my twin and I had come to live with Mrs. Maybelle in the beginning. After nearly five years, she let us move into an individual complex since the crime activity was skyrocketing after the arrival of the new gangs: she'd claimed that she was afraid something would happen to us if we didn't become independent early on, so she'd told us to find a way to pay her for living like an adult. Still... she was the only other person besides the late Mrs. McCarthy who had felt like a parent to Amelia and myself, so I gently stepped on the stool and got another plate down. "Help yourself... I made enough to have seconds, if you'd like."

"Well, if you insist," the old woman giggled, flapping a wrinkled hand; when there were two plates full of food and the two of us were sitting at the table, I watched the woman eat with speculative eyes. Mrs. Maybelle cocked her head before twirling the noodles around her fork and popping them into her mouth; her grey eyes widened only a second later and she chewed slowly. "Wow... this is a killer concoction, Emily."

"Really?!" I hesitantly asked, taking a bite of the food and blinking in amazement: the woman was right. The food was simple, but absolutely delicious because of the veggies and herbs I'd added to it. "Wow... I was expecting it to be mediocre, not a masterpiece."

"You could give cooking lessons with food this good," Old Lady Maybelle sighed once her plate was clean; the woman let out a yawn and put her dish in the sink. "I hope you have a good day at school... I've been worried about you ever since poor Amelia's passing. Bah, such a terrible event... goodnight, honey."

I gave a little wave and watched as my landlady left the room; then, when the door was shut, I walked over to the kitchen counter and picked up the only picture of my sister that I had: the two of us were standing together with our arms wrapped around each other and grinning at the camera. We were looking out of the picture though we were looking into now was full of some sort of unseen opportunity... back then, my eyes had looked so different than the way they do now.

They had looked so warm... and whenever Amelia had held my hand, I had felt warm, too.

It hadn't always been that way, though... in fact, until my sister and I were seven years old, Amelia had listened to our parents and had practically ignored me. That had all changed one afternoon when I had been playing on the park swings by myself: I had been wearing a checkered dress and a pair of dusty black shoes, since our parents always bought my clothes from a thrift store. Then, out of the blue, Amelia had walked up to me and tapped me from behind.

"Hey, Emmy, let's play together!" Amelia had exclaimed; I had looked at her over my shoulder from the swing set before turning back around.

"No," I'd murmured, staring at the ground with angry violet eyes. "You go play with Mommy and Daddy. I don't want to play with you."

"But I want to play with you, Emmy," Amy had laughed, moving forward and staring down at me with an eager smile. "Please?"

"Go away!" I'd finally shrieked, getting off the swing and pushing her down; my twin sister's big brown eyes had widened and she looked more than startled when I started crying and simultaneously glared down at her in anger. "I hate you the most, Amy! You have everything! You have Mommy and Daddy and Grandma! You have everything I don't! You steal everything, Amy, so go away and leave me alone forever!"

"I-I steal everything?" the little girl had stammered, looking stunned.

"Yes! You steal everything!" I'd wailed back, sinking down to my knees and burying my face in my tiny little hands. "You stole all the yummy candy, all the ice cream, all the cake, all the new toys, all the pretty clothes, and all the happy birthdays! You stole shopping with Mommy, golfing with Daddy, baking cookies with grandma, and saying goodbye to grandpa at his funeral! You steal everything, and I... I never get to have anything!"

When I finally trailed off and broke down into tears, I was startled when my sister crawled over and pulled her into a hug; I felt her shaking and heard her crying, but I didn't know why she was acting that way when she'd had everything I'd always wanted.

"I'm sorry..." Amy hiccuped, letting out a sob and clutching the back of my dress with tight fists. "I'm sorry..."

"Amy?" I'd whimpered, anger fading into guilt when she burst into tears.

"I'm sorry for stealing everything!" my twin sister had wailed, crying against my shoulder when I burst into tears as well. Ever since that moment, Amelia had given me half of everything she received, and if she couldn't split it somehow then she wouldn't accept whatever it was. Each day after that meltdown was spent with her giving me half of everything she had, and because of that I had actually come to love my twin sister more than anyone else because of her kindness.

She was the only one who'd cared about me from the very beginning.

I slowly closed my eyes and put the picture of us face-down on the counter before I started gathering my school stuff. I was working very hard at three different jobs to support my tuition fees, which was also why I'd signed up for Martial Arts classes: I'd needed them to make sure I had no problems with the less dangerous scum living in the city I had grown up in. Once I'd packed my school bag, I grabbed the handle and held it in front of me before quietly heading downstairs.

I heard the Anderson couple screaming at each other again when I passed by their door, so I made a mental note to avoid coming home early.

The moment I walked outside and closed the door behind me, I was startled by an uproar of maniacal laughter; when I whirled around, I saw Johnny sitting on top of the van from the previous evening and laughing his ass off. I immediately scowled and covered my face with one hand, taking in a deep breath of air and slowly letting it out: I was trying to keep my cool and not blow up on him for sleeping in front of my apartment like a stalker, but the moment he opened his mouth and started talking past his laughter, I almost lost it anyway because of how much he pissed me off.

"A-a schoolgirl?!" he guffawed, laughing so hard that he rolled off the hood of the vehicle. "Oh, damn! Are you fuckin' serious?! You actually got a _schoolgirl_ fetish?!"

_No, __you idiot,_ I'm an actual schoolgirl, I silently thought, flipping him off yet again before I smoothed my skirt and started walking towards my school. Johnny continued laughing at me even as he got in the van and began trailing me like he had the previous evening; I felt my irritation increasing when people started staring at him, and in turn at me since he was still shouting questions at me. Eventually I gave up and bolted across the street, running straight over to the van and throwing the door open before sliding inside. After I'd slammed it shut, I pulled my Academy brochure out of my bag and held it up with a fierce glare.

"Stillwater Academy for Girls," he read aloud, eyebrows shooting up. "Damn... I never would have guessed you were in high school like me. I thought maybe you were still in Middle School, or even Elementary school, because of how tiny you are."

I immediately sent a glare to end all glares his way and looked out the window, ignoring his presence until he pulled up in the parking lot; several of my classmates started staring at me in surprise when I jumped out of the van, mostly because Johnny leaned out the window and waved goodbye in a very loud manner before speeding off to God knows where. That day, needless to say, was exhausting and extremely unbearable... mostly because I was mentally exhausted.

"Miss Evergreen, wake up!" somebody shouted, snapping me out of my reverie; my head instantly snapped up and I tensed, red-violet eyes glittering with alertness as I faced her teacher's glare. "How many times do I have to tell you not to sleep in my class? This is the third time in a row you've put your head down!"

"I finished the work you handed out, so by all rights I'm allowed to put my head down," I quietly retorted, narrowing my eyes in irritation when the rest of the class started sniggering. Everyone already knew how many times I had been reprimanded by this particular teacher: every other teacher seemed to love me because of my grades, but Mrs. Kingsford was never satisfied with my class performance. She seemed to take it personally that I put my head down only in first hour. The truth is that I'm holding no grudge against the class _or_ the teacher: it's simply difficult to listen to the woman's soothing lectures whenever I get a migraine. I looked around the classroom and felt annoyed when I noticed three other students actually sleeping in class and snoring on top of it… unlike me, since I was only resting.

"Are you listening to me?" Mrs. Kingsford demanded.

"Of course I am," I murmured, using my bangs to hide my large amethyst eyes. "I always do, Ma'am."

"Very well," Mrs. Kingsford retorted firmly, straightening up and pointing to the board imperiously. "Then you can tell the class the answer to that particular question, am I correct? If you actually did the work, you should know the answer... so this should be an easy task for someone who can finish all her work in ten minutes."

I was just about to ask 'what question?' when I realized that it probably wouldn't be the wisest answer. My half-hidden eyes darted over the question and I blinked when I recognized it; flipping through my notebook, I found my finished work and quickly read out the answer I had scribbled down a few minutes ago. I shot a quick glance at the teacher after I was done, but the woman appeared far from satisfied: personally, I found it to be a little ridiculous… considering the fact that I was the only person in her class who ever bothered to do the homework. Instead, the teacher glared at me for a long moment, almost as if she thought I had copied the work from someone else. Then she swept away, rapping her ruler on tables to wake the other students up: I felt rather triumphant to have beaten a teacher.

However, I instantly sank back into her chair with a soft sigh of relief.

I hated being the center of attention: having everyone stare at me had always been an unsettling feeling.

Luckily, there were only ten more minutes until the end of the period… and when the bell finally rang, the whole class erupted into a flurry of action. I allowed myself to be pulled along by the stream of students to the cafeteria, listening to the swirl of gossip and the loud teasing. When I finally made it to the cafeteria, I quickly joined the line and grabbed nothing but a carton of juice since I was eager to remove myself from the jostling crowd of sweaty girls. I found it exceedingly annoying to be surrounded by other people who were constantly letting out shrill and earsplitting noises in order to converse about hundreds of meaningless topics.

"Well, look who's finally arrived!" one of the girls standing behind me sneered, grabbing my shoulder and forcefully spinning me around. "It's the albino!"

"Can I help you?" I asked in a monotone, refusing to let any emotion break through my mask.

"We heard something interesting this morning," one girl commented with a grin. "We heard you're dating Aisha's boyfriend."

"E-excuse me?" I asked, blinking in stunned shock for several moments. "I… I'm not dating anyone, and who the hell is Aisha?"

"You can't tell me that you don't know about our school idol!" another girl laughed. "That guy you showed up with, Johnny Gat, is Aisha's boyfriend!"

"Ugh... that's gross," I retorted in disgust, struggling to retain my composure when I realized that everybody around us was listening: Aisha was probably one of the most popular girls in the school, so someone as 'lowly' as me should definitely not have been kissing her boyfriend. "You're sadly mistaken: we're definitely not dating each other, and he's lucky that I didn't slap him for kissing me yesterday. The stupid idiot's been stalking me ever since last night."

"I know Gat wouldn't date a weirdo, but kissing someone as ugly as you? That's something I understand even less," the first girl scoffed, blocking my path out of the cafeteria. "You'd better tell Eesh you're sorry, Freak, 'cause she's madder than a hellcat."

"I don't have to explain myself to anyone! It was Johnny who kissed me, so he can be the one who explains what happened," I hissed through gritted teeth, glaring at them with a threatening expression. I made to walk around the girls but had only taken two steps when someone stuck their foot out and tripped me. Since I was only a foot away from the door, I found her face quickly coming to meet the metal handle. By the time I had braced myself for humiliation and a bloody nose, I was startled to see that I was hovering only a few inches above the handle: my carton of juice was being held by someone's delicate hands. Quickly finding my feet, I looked up at my savior and blinked rapidly in surprise: she was at least two feet taller and her pixie-like black hair was swept off to the side. Her dark skin and slender build was well-known throughout the whole school, and her slanted, exotic brown eyes were so cold that they could have frozen hell.

"Aisha," the girl who'd tripped me stuttered, sounding fearful. "Hey, girlfriend, what's up?"

I lowered my eyes and looked away, feeling extremely unsettled: Aisha herself had come to my rescue. The half-Japanese black girl was a senior in her final year of high school, and she was famous on the basketball team because she had won the state finals four times in a row. On top of that, she was already a published singer, so she was relatively famous in the adult world as well. I was two grades below her and known only by my teachers and a few distant classmates.

I hesitantly straightened my black school skirt and fixed the tie on my school shirt, shivering a little despite the warmth in the cafeteria.

"What's going on here?" Aisha asked in a mock polite voice, eyeing the girls with calm danger; her hand was still on my arm, and I tensed a little from the dislike of being touched by other people. The girls stumbled over their words as they tried to come up with a good explanation.

"You heard the rumors, right?" the first girl spoke up, making the african beauty narrow her eyes. "It's like, she kissed your boyfriend, Johnny, and even showed up with him in his van this morning! So, we thought somebody should get mad at the freak and get some revenge for you… that's all it was, you know?"

Aisha, however, didn't give the reply a second thought.

"I don't need ignorant people like you to fight my battles," the girl stated coldly. "Johnny tried to fight Emily yesterday, and the two of us were _never_ dating."

"Wait, what?" another girl scoffed. "But, you two are always together! We thought you were... you know... "

"We're childhood friends, so scat," Aisha ordered, dark brown eyes turning dangerously hard; they all obeyed in an instant, rushing through the cafeteria doors only a split second after she gave the command. Then the girl turned her cold expression on me and I involuntarily flinched, quickly diverting my gaze to the ground with my shoulders tensed; however, I was startled when the older girl pulled me into a hug and laughed gently. "Don't worry, kiddo... Johnny called me before first period and explained everything that happened yesterday. I'm in the Saints, too, so from this day forward we're sisters in arms! I'm completely aware that you did what you had to, as well... Johnny can be a real pervert, but he's a good guy, so don't let those idiots get to you."

I kept my mouth shut when the girl ruffled my hair and walked off, heading through the cafeteria doorway. I followed her, but just before I left the room I paused and looked over my shoulder: several people at nearby tables were staring at me, so I quickly ducked my head down before hurrying around the corner.

The rest of the school day passed in a blur, since nothing eventful happened afterwards.


End file.
